


The Ebony Falcon Strikes

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [4]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Gina Linetti & Jake Peralta Friendship, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Roger Peralta's A+ Parenting, Season 1 Episode 14, Terry is stronger than he looks, Trauma, Young Gina Linetti & Jake Peralta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: Sargent Terry Jeffords punches Detective Jake Peralta in the face, twice, in s1 ep14.Jake's trauma takes issue with it. Jake himself tries - and fails miserably - to ignore it.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Pre-Relationship - Relationship
Series: Foray into B99 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 71
Kudos: 1037





	1. Version 1

Jake had his hands resting on either side of the sink, staring down at the running water. He was vaguely aware that Boyle would throw a fit if he saw the amount of water being wasted, especially since it was announced that the California drought was “affecting tomato quality”. Normally he would be happy to oblige, but he just… didn’t want to have to deal with this yet.

No choice about it, though. He had noticed Amy looking at his face a few times, so he knew he had to take stock of just how bad it was. Jake closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, he forced his face upwards, opening his eyes to stare into the mirror in front of him.

Well, shit.

Terry’s punches thankfully hadn’t broken his nose… buuuuut both of his eyes were steadily blackening. His left one looked a little worse off, and Jake reached up to touch it tenderly.

The moment his fingers made contact, pain shot through his system, and Jake pulled back instinctively, flinching away from his own reflection.

Okay, so, it definitely hurt. And it was definitely noticeable. Jake looked like a raccoon, but with distinctly better hair, thank you very much.

Maybe Jake could borrow some of Gina’s makeup - he had used to have to, back when… well. Their skin tones matched well enough, and, while Amy had already noticed them, he could at least make them look less… angry.

Jake pulled out his phone, sending Gina a quick text. She was currently enthralled in the reflective surface of the side of the toaster, so he wasn’t sure when she’d get it.

It was at that precise moment the door to the bathroom opened.

Jake shoved his phone in his pocket as he glanced in the mirror to see who it was.

He froze.

It was Terry.

A very annoyed looking Terry walking straight towards him.

Jake felt his shoulders stiffen, his body tense up. Adrenaline shot through his system like a bullet, and fight or flight was telling him to _fucking run_.

“Just heading out, Sarge.” Jake grinned toothily at him, turning off the water and willing himself to make for the door, forcing his feet to move from where they seemed to be rooted in place.

“Jake,” Terry began in a stern voice, reaching out to grab his upper arm.

Jake flinched away from him, slamming his side against one of the sinks. His arms were raised in a slightly defensive position, not so much a threat as it was trying to discreetly cover his chest and ribs.

Terry stopped. Stepped back. Dropped his hand to his side. “Jake,” He said again, voice less loud but still sounding somewhat upset. “I just came in here to tell you to get back to work. You’ve been in here for over an hour.”

Jake didn’t respond verbally, just nodding, still tensed against the sink. “Yeah, I’ll get right on it. Paperwork, all that good stuff.”

Terry looked like he was going to say something, but Jake scootched past him. “I’ll get started right away.” He said, opening the door and bolting out of it, speed-walking to his desk and throwing himself into his chair.

Amy looked up from her computer. “Jake, glad you could join us.”

“Mhm,” Jake replied, flipping open the closest file, not wanting to lift up his head to look at her. Their usual witty banter died on the spot - he didn’t want to make her upset.

It was never a good thing when someone was upset at him.

After a moment, Amy spoke again, “You alright? You were in there for a while and nothing happened.” All of her pretentiousness was gone. She even sounded slightly concerned, something that Jake would normally want to use to his advantage to crack a ‘title of your sex tape’ joke, except today it just felt too risky.

Jake realized she had asked him a question. “Hm, oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just eager to get… paperwork-ing.”

“That’s not even a real word.”

“It is now.”

“Jake,” Amy sounded annoyed, “That’s not how language syntax is developed. I took a seminar-”

“Sorry.” Jake replied automatically, “Forget it.”

“No, no, this is important. Language comes from a structured-” Amy’s voice was tinged with frustration, and Jake felt himself tense up further. It would be better to just let her talk, except then she would just build up steam and that would be-

What was Jake even thinking?

Amy wouldn’t hurt him. Wouldn’t hit him or punch him for misusing grammar. She wouldn’t kick him in the ribs until he coughed up blood, or slam his head into a wall until he couldn’t see straight. Wouldn’t punch him so hard he lost his baby teeth early. He didn’t even have baby teeth anymore. He didn’t think? Amy would probably know that.

But Amy was still talking angrily about the origins of “paper”, and he didn’t want to interrupt. Didn’t dare interrupt.

He knew, logically, that of course Amy wasn’t going to hurt him because she was upset.

But he had known that Terry wasn’t going to, either.

And now he had the black eyes to show for it.

So, Jake didn’t say anything, and instead just starting working on the Miller case - dude got stabbed with a pencil, John-Wick style. Undeniably cool, but Jake plowed through, refusing to comment or even acknowledge the case’s fun bits.

Jake doubted he had ever been more efficient in his entire career, completed files stacking up beside him. Amy had, at some point, decided it was a competition, however.

Normally, Jake would love that - an opportunity to beat out Santiago on _paperwork_? She would go nuts! Which was, of course, precisely why Jake chose to slow down, pressing down on each key like it was the most important decision of his life. He had to let her win - it wouldn’t do to piss of Amy today, too.

Gina had sent him a text, telling him to come to the evidence lockup. Jake stood up, but Terry materialized beside him.

“No wandering around until the paperwork is done. C’mon, Jake, you know the review is coming up soon. Captain’ll want all the numbers in. You’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

“Sarge-” Jake began, then cut himself off. He couldn’t possibly explain why he needed to talk to Gina, why he was so on edge, why every move someone made was enough to make his adrenaline spike.

Once he got rid of the black eyes, it would be like nothing happened. Jake would be able to slap back on his bravado - so long as he’s not injured, it wouldn’t matter. If people realized that he could get hurt, then he would be. He had to look invulnerable. Then he could fake it.

But Terry was staring at him, evidently waiting for a response.

“Yes, Sarge.” Jake finally replied quietly, sitting back down at his desk. He would need to send Gina another text explaining that he couldn’t leave his desk, but he could feel Terry’s eyes on him and he was sure that if he pulled out his phone he would come back over and smack him- his phone out of his hand.

So, Jake picked up the next file, instead. He would make it up to Gina later.

Gina had always had his back. He remembered the first time they met up after his dad hat hit him, all bruised up and terrified that she would run away or say that she hated him, too. Instead, she had just shrugged and said she liked the color purple, so she didn’t mind. They were like, _maybe_ four, so it was a reasonable response at the time, and Jake had accepted it with the relief that he had someone to escape to.

Since then, though, she’d always backed him up. Always from the distance he requested, but never further.

Gina was the only person he truly knew that, no matter how furious she got, she would never hurt him.

He had begun to think that about the 99, at least a bit, but that was gone. Replaced only with the uncertainty that had followed him everywhere in his life, and everyone in it.

His dad had left him when he was six, yes. But he came home to visit, every now and then. Jake was always too loud, too excited, too annoying. Always thinking that maybe this time he would do it right - the right words in the right order that would make his dad hug him instead of hit him, tell him he loved him instead of screaming in his face and kicking him through their flimsy doors. Just the right combination in the right way that would fix all his problems, get him the father he so desperately wanted.

Jake had never been able to find the right order of words. He still hadn’t given up hope, though. Sometimes, his dad would ruffle his hair, or pat him on the back firmly instead of painfully, tell him he did good.

Jake craved that more than he knew was healthy. He would tell anyone else that abusers don’t work that way, but he never took the advice himself. He wasn’t delusional - he knew his dad was wrong. But he’d defend him to his last breath, if only so that then he wouldn’t have to be a victim.

And now here he was, afraid of his own team, hiding from their negative emotions like a coward.

Always easier to run and hide than try to fight back. Jake had learned that lesson the hard way, and he didn’t plan on repeating that mistake.

Rosa was off being productive somewhere, which Jake was thankful for. He didn’t want her to think he was weak.

Boyle was being productive with Rosa, the two of them on some assignment that they had definitely told him about at some point. That was good, too. Boyle would draw attention to Jake’s… minor injuries, and probably offer some weird medicinal herb cheese remedy or something.

Scully and Hitchcock hadn’t even noticed. Which was good. Holt was stressing, hypothetically, in his office, Amy was working away, and Terry was…

Where was Terry? He wasn’t at his desk.

Jake felt his pulse skyrocket, and his hands clenched around the file, crunching the paper. He needed to turn to try to see where he went, but Jake’s body was trying to protect itself, bracing as if he was about to be attacked. It didn’t hurt as much to get hit on the back as the front, and forcing himself to move was an effort in and of itself.

Jake swiveled around in his chair, teeth gritted.

No one was behind him.

Terry was across the bullpen, facing the elevator doors, jamming the down button repeatedly.

Jake released the breath he’d been holding in his chest, slowly unfolding the paper crumpled between his hands. Welp, hopefully the judge wouldn’t mind that John Quick - cool name, definitely a pedo - record sheet was now more of a record origami.

Jake did, however, notice Gina on the approach, gigantic bag in hand, phone in the other.

Jake felt the tension melt out of his body, feeling fully at ease for the first time since Terry had punched him. Twice.

He lifted his hand in a little half-wave, and Gina glanced up from her phone long enough to flash him a smile as she walked past him towards the bathroom. Jake stood up and followed suit, ignoring the odd glance from Amy as he did so.

Jake opened the door to the bathroom - why did Gina insist on using the guy’s one all the time, anyway? - and she was already pulling out the contents of her bag. A hairdryer, an ungodly amount of phone chargers, some mints, a hairbrush, what looked like an entire jazzercise outfit, a microphone, all the missing pens in the department, Scully’s badge, and, finally, her makeup kit.

Jake leaned against a sink, relaxed, as Gina reached out for his face, brush in hand. They stood in silence for a few minutes, Gina just covering up the bruises carefully, as she always had.

“Thanks, Gina.” Jake said suddenly, voice quiet and almost muted. All the Jake charm was gone, and he was just… existing.

Gina shrugged. “Well, you didn’t come to lockup, and I got distracted by this hot perp’s file, he’s a pedo, though, super lame, so I came back up here to make sure you weren’t like 20 blocks away and still running.”

Jake didn’t laugh, but he did think it was funny. She’d always been the one to “run away” whenever she got inconvenienced, and they both knew he enjoyed self-punishment too much to get out of bad situations. The only difference between him and a puppy that’d been kicked too many times was that he was a whole-ass adult, and responsible for himself.

Which hadn’t been going well, shockingly enough.

After a few more minutes of silence, Gina stepped back. “Voila.” She kissed her fingers. “Not my finest work, I’ll admit, but it’s not my fault your skin is so pale.”

Jake looked back up, reviewing his reflection. The bruises were still noticeable, but distinctly less so. They could pass as heavy bags under his eyes, and Jake felt the tightness in his chest loosen its grip. He was back in control, at least a bit.

The shields were coming back up, and Jake found himself smiling slightly. His eyes still looked pained, but after a little more time that would be fixed, too.

“It’s great.” Jake said, turning to look at Gina. Her back was turned, and she was putting everything back into her bag with extreme efficiency. But Jake could tell she was bothered, the way her shoulders were up too high and how her phone was tucked away into her pocket.

“Gina, hey,” Jake leaned his hip against the sink, then winced as it dug into a probably-bruising sore spot. “What’s on your mind?”

“I thought we were done with this, Jakey.” Gina faced him and, okay, she actually looked upset. For realz. “You know I’ve got your back, and I always _will_ , but I didn’t think this would happen again. And for Ter-bear to be the one to do it?” Gina reached out, hand grasping gently on Jake’s shoulder and shaking it slightly. “Jake, I don’t want you to be afraid of him. It’s not healthy, and he would never-”

“Do you think his kids are okay?” Jake asked suddenly, hand coming up to grab Gina’s wrist. “And his wife? Are they… okay?”

Gina’s face hardened. “Yes, Jake, I think they’re fine. You two were undercover, it was specific to the situation. Just talk to him, it’ll be fine.”

“He didn’t punch me because it was for a cover, he punched me because I went behind his back!” Jake felt anger bubbling back up, “Because I wouldn’t tell him why I did.”

Gina was frowning, but her grip on his shoulder stayed gentle. She pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Jakey. I didn’t want this to happen to you again.” Her voice was muffled slightly.

Jake didn’t reply, just kept his face buried in her shoulder, remembering all the times they’d been in this exact same situation over the years. They’d both grown and changed so much, but in the end, they were always back here, her helping him hide whatever new bruises he had sprouted.

After a moment, Jake pulled back. His grin was back in place, and he looked about as normal as he ever did. “Welp, I have work to do! Gotta get on that.”

“Sure, Jakey. Come over to my place tonight, yeah? I’ll make hot chocolate like Nana used to, especially since you never make it right.”

“Says the one who never puts in enough marshmallows.”

“Your idea of ‘enough’ is the entire bag, boo.”

Jake left the bathroom first, making for his desk, steps faltering when he saw Terry was back at his own desk. He forced himself not to switch directions, walking past it back to his desk.

“Peralta, we’re all supposed to be _working_ right now.” Terry looked up, then stopped, eyeing Jake’s face. “Do you want to talk or something?”

Jake shook his head, already backing up. “Nope. Anywho, I have… work stuff, so… good talk!”

Not Jake’s bravest moment, maybe, but it was better than last time. Actual conversation, check. Not flinching, check. Problem technically ‘addressed’ so now he could never acknowledge it again and have it eventually come up in other trust-related issues in the future that he can’t really explain the backing for without delving back into it several years to never down the line? Definitely a check.

When he had returned to his desk, Amy had taken a couple of files off of his stack and onto her own, flashing him a small smile.

“Hope you’re back on your game, Jake. I’d hate to do this whole thing myself.”

“‘I’d hate to do this whole thing by myself’, title of your sex tape.” Jake shot back, grinning broadly.

Amy flicked a rubber band at him, trying and failing to hide her grin, and Jake smiled back.

He had lied. Maybe there was one more person he could add to his currently-just-Gina list of people he trusted.

Because he hadn’t even _thought_ about flinching away from Amy Santiago’s rubber bands of doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Gina have a great friendship, and I wanted to focus and expand on it for version 1 of this fic. Version 2 (chapter 2) focuses more on Amy/Jake's relationship.
> 
> Pls consider leaving a comment! If you like this fic, I have a couple other b99 fics, and I take requests on tumblr :D


	2. Version 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is version 2 of the fic

Jake begrudgingly allowed the paramedic to check his eyes.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine! If I had a concussion, I would know.” Jake turned to give puppy eyes to Boyle, but he was still gone.

“I’m sorry, Jake, but your safety is more important than our… our friendship,” Boyle had said, before bursting into tears and needing to be consoled by some poor paramedic student.

“Hm, well, looks to me like you _do_ have one. Your left pupil is dilating less than your right, I can’t clear you for work.” The paramedic was cute, he’d be flirting with her except she was being super not cool right now.

“That’s dumb. Sarge, tell her how dumb she is at her job!” Jake shouted, before adding, “Not because you’re a woman or anything, but because you’re _wrong_ , and I need to go back to work.”

Terry walked over to the pair, annoyed. “Don’t insult the healthcare workers, Peralta. They’re doing their job.”

“Badly! She says I have a concussion, which I most certainly do not.”

Terry frowned, arms crossing. “Concussion? From what?”

“From when you punched me in the face, Sarge. Twice.” Jake supplied, “Although, like I said, it’s not a concussion. It’s just light being dumb or whatever.”

“I didn’t realize I hit you that hard, Jake. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, which is why you did it until I answered your questions, right?” Jake could feel his temper rising, anger directing itself at Terry. He forced his voice back down, “Don’t worry about it, Sarge. We were undercover. Part of the job.”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten a beatdown before. Part of the job. But Terry? He _trusted_ Terry. Relied on him to have his back. Hell, he was the freaking _Sargent_ of the 99.

Jake wasn’t a big fan of people towering over him - hadn’t been ever since he was a few years old, staring up at his red-faced dad screaming at him for talking too much or being annoying or… well, anything. Crying was a definite no-go, that just would make him madder and then it all really went to shit.

So Jake pushed down his anger, flipping on his puppy eyes and staring at Terry.

Terry stared back, unflinching. “Take the day off, Jake, I’ll drive you home.”

“I have stuff in the precinct I need to get first.” Jake bargained - with any luck, once he got there Holt would let him stay. The guy was such a stickler for work that it might work.

“Fine, but then I’m taking you home after that.”

Jake grinned, “Thanks, Sarge! You’re the best.” The words felt flat, even to him.

Terry frowned again, but didn’t respond.

Jake took that as a win, and slid off the back of the ambulance and got to his feet. Dark spots danced across his vision, but Jake was careful not to sway, and Terry seemed to buy it. The paramedic just shrugged and pulled off her gloves, not wanting to argue with the Sarge, although she did appraisingly glance at his arms. Jake was pretty sure she muttered, “ _Great_ veins” to herself, but he wasn’t sure over the roaring in his ears.

Terry got into the car. Boyle was already sitting in the backseat, teary eyed but grinning. “Jake! I was worried they might have had to lobotomize you, and the last words you would’ve heard from me would’ve been-”

“I’m fine, Charles. We’re just heading back to the precinct.” Jake replied, opening the passenger door.

“Momentarily.” Terry added, gripping the steering wheel so tightly Jake wondered if it was going to bend.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, Boyle sniffling occasionally and Terry just keeping his eyes fixed on the road in front of him, scowl on his face.

His expression made Jake more than a little uncomfortable, and Terry’s proximity was causing Jake to tense up. But, his hands were on the wheel - Terry was a very diligent, if road-rage-fueled, driver - and his eyes were set forward, so Jake could convince himself there was no threat.

No threat.

This was _Terry_ he was talking about. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless it got into his yogurt.

But Jake’s aching head and rapidly developing black eye said otherwise.

Terry pulled up to the precinct, opening the car roughly. Jake fought down the response he wanted - to run for it - and opened the car door as well, getting out and leaning on it for a moment, acting casual, while waiting for the world to stop spinning.

The three of them took the elevator to their floor, Jake leaning against the back of it for support. Boyle was talking about the meal he was going to make Jake to make him feel better, but the words were distorting and nodding made his brain hurt.

Terry strode out the moment the doors dinged open, and Jake pushed himself off the wall, following suit. Boyle split off to go to his desk, probably looking for some of his fermented yogurt.

Jake walked, and definitely was _not_ staggering, over to his desk, letting out a small sigh of relief as he managed to make it to his chair without tripping on his own feet, or slipping on Scully’s thumbtacks. Terry walked straight past him, and Jake felt more at ease once he was out of arm’s length.

Amy glanced up, then did a double take, concern spreading across her face “Jake, are you alright?”

“Yep, right as rain! Which is a weird saying, by the way,” Jake reached out to pick up a file from his desk and flipped it open.

Gina looked up from her phone - a rare occurrence - and Jake noticed her expression changing momentarily as she looked him over. She got up, and sauntered over to his desk.

“Jakey, what happened to your face?” She asked, “It’s all wonky.”

“Undercover op. Sarge punched me. I’m fine.” Jake smiled broadly at her.

Gina leaned forward, one hand going to his shoulder. It was gentle, but a grip all the same. “Jake,” Her voice lowered, “Is everything… fergalicious?”

It was a code word they had created when they were kids, when Jake showed up covered in bruises, and trying so desperately not to cry, at their secret hideout in the park. It had made him laugh, and then cry. Since then, they used it whenever the other seemed like they needed to “talk, or cry, or whatever it is emotional people do”. Yes meant don’t worry about it, no meant ‘please help’.

Jake’s smile slipped. “I’m good.” His mouth twitched up, “Thanks.”

“Always. Come by my place tonight. You bring the chocolate, I’ll bring the hot.”

“That’s not how hot chocolate works.”

“It is now.” Gina had her phone back out, and wandered back to her desk, completely absorbed.

Jake shrugged, then winced as it sent off sparks in his head. He turned back to his own desk, looking down at the file in front of him. The words were twisted up in each other, and trying to focus made his head pound.

“Peralta!”

Jake’s head shot up, ignoring the burst of pain that followed. Terry was walking to his desk, arms crossed.

“That is not getting ready to leave. I talked to the Captain, he’s giving you the next couple days off.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” Jake shot back, even as his muscles tensed, ready to _move_ , to get away from the person who hit- from Terry.

Terry, who was currently tapping his foot impatiently. “Get your stuff, let’s go.” Terry, for his part, seemed tense, too. Which didn’t particularly make Jake feel better.

“Fine, fine, I’m going.” Jake shoved his stuff haphazardly into his bag, slung it onto his shoulder, and stood up abruptly.

The world tilted.

Jake felt strong hands - Terry’s hands - grab his arms to catch him, and Jake flinched away from them, hard. He collided with the desk, then hit the floor with a bang, chair rolling off into the middle of the bullpen.

“Jake, are you alright?” Amy asked, getting to her feet.

Jake held up a shaky hand, eyes screwed shut against the light. “I’m fine” He groaned, “Just slipped.” He forced his eyes open, noting that he had drawn attention to himself. The entire bullpen was staring at him, and, although his back was to it, he guessed Holt was watching as well.

“Here, let me-” Terry reached out again, and Jake shook his head, using his raised hand to reach for the top of his desk.

“Seriously, I got it. You guys worry too much.”

“No, we don’t. You’re _injured_ , Jake, and I think-” Terry began.

“Well, who’s the reason I’m injured anyway?” Jake shot back, before snapping his mouth shut, teeth audibly clicking. He shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have talked back.

Shit, shit, shit.

Terry was staring at Jake with that same expression he’d had all day, weird mix of tense and, Jake would have thought it was guilt except the Sarge had nothing to be sorry for, it was Jake’s fault, it always was, so it must be anger.

“I’ve got it, Sarge.” Jake staggered to his feet, clutching the desk like a lifeline, which it very well might have been.

“Jake,” Amy said, “Why don’t you sit back down, okay?” She wheeled her chair - ooh, she had the nice chair, too - but Jake shook his head.

Terry stepped towards him and Jake flinched again. He could have passed off the first time well enough, but this time it was obvious.

He was afraid of Terry.

Jake had flinched away. From Terry. In front of the entire bullpen.

“You know what, you’re right, actually. I think the concussion’s making me all weird. I’ll be back and fine in no time!” Jake tried to explain away his reaction. A day off to recollect himself was precisely what he needed - get away from Terry, remind his body to stop flinching like he was some child staring up at his dad again - and then he’d be fine.

Terry held up his hands placatingly, taking a step back. “Okay, Jake. Everything’s fine. I’ll have Santiago take you home instead, okay?”

Surprisingly, Amy didn’t protest, which threw Jake off his game enough that, the next thing he knew, he was being wheeled - in Amy’s chair, the one with the working wheels - through the parking lot. His bag was in his lap.

“Wow, that was fast.”

“You started to make a joke about chairs and then passed out.” Amy explained, “We figured it was our best chance.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Amy unlocked her car, and Jake slid into it, leaning his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes with a sigh.

When he opened his eyes again, Amy was parking the car at his apartment complex.

“Cool, I have teleportation.” Jake smiled at her. She glanced at him, and asked him something, but he wasn’t paying attention. After a moment, she picked up his bag, fishing out the keys.

The two got out of the car, Amy now holding his bag, and Jake holding onto the hood of the car as his body threatened to tip over.

Amy grumbled something under her breath, even as she looped one of Jake’s arms around her shoulders, helping him trudge to the elevator.

“Sorry.” Jake was genuinely apologetic. He could walk well enough, but every half-minute or so his legs decided to buckle, or his vision short out, or both at once. That was fun.

“It’s okay.” Amy sounded slightly out of breath, “You’d do the same for me.”

Jake nodded, even though it made the entire world spin, “Of course.”

He was planning to add something, some fun comment about how he needed someone to beat in arrests, or how no one else gave as nice ‘title of your sex tape’s as she did, but instead, he just let it hang in the air. At the end of the day, they had each others’ backs.

In this case literally, as Amy managed to unlock the door to his apartment and push him in, guiding him to the bed.

Jake flopped down onto it, closing his eyes again.

“Jake,” Amy made to sit down on the edge of the bed, then changed her mind when she saw the crumbs scattered across it. “You know Sarge would never mean to have hurt you like that. I saw him rip the fridge door off just trying to open it. He didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“He never ‘means’ for it to happen.” Jake kept his eyes closed, didn’t want to have to see Amy’s face staring back at him. “But next thing you know, he’s back from another flight and I’m annoying him and it just happens.”

He can hear the frown in her voice when she speaks. “Flight?”

“Yeah, my dad’s a pilot.” Jake lifts one hand to flop across his chest. “High-stress job, I guess.”

He can hear the gears turning in her head, and idly wonders what she’s thinking about. The concussion made everything kinda fuzzy, and not in the fun, drunk way.

“Your dad hit you?” She finally asked carefully.

Jake felt his heart stop. Blood freeze over. How had she- oh no, he had fucked up. He sat up, watching several concerned Amy’s melt back into one, still concerned, Amy.

“Uhhhh,” Was his intelligent reply.

Amy looked sad. She reached out, taking Jake’s hand from where it was still held against his chest, as if in a defensive position.

She didn’t say anything, which Jake was eternally grateful for. Instead, she just sat down next to him, grimaced, and then pushed him back down gently with her free hand, other still holding his.

“Get some rest, Peralta.”

“Aye aye, sir.” Jake replied, eyes already slipping back closed.

“Just, don’t tell anyone, okay?” He asked, after a few minutes.

There was silence for a moment. Amy sighed, then said, “Okay.”

More silence.

“Terry isn’t like your dad. He’s a good guy. Never raised a hand to anyone before, that I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard not to react, I guess. I’ll be fine in no time, promise.”

“You don’t have to be. Fine, I mean.”

“I do, though. He’s my Sarge, this is my precinct, and I’m me. I’ve got enough daddy issues already, don’t you think?”

Amy didn’t reply, but she squeezed his hand.

She might’ve replied later, but by then, Jake was already asleep.

And, when he returned to the precinct, three days later, Jake flashed Terry a grin and a wave as he entered the precinct, high-fived Charles as he always did, gave a head-nod to Rosa, and sat down in his chair, greeting Amy with his usual banter.

Both of them were eager to fall back into it, and neither acknowledged their conversation from before.

Everything was back to normal.

Jake felt his shoulders tense as someone walked behind him, and forced them to relax.

Everything was going to be back to normal.

There was no other option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version of the fic has more of the relationship between Amy and Jake than Gina and Jake's friendship. I couldn't decide which to use, so I wrote both :)
> 
> Pls consider leaving a comment! If you like this fic, I have a couple other b99 fics, and I take requests on tumblr :D
> 
> Interestingly, I'm normally more of a happy ending-fic person, so it was weird to leave it in a kinda unfulfilled place. Jake hasn't really recovered in either version, but this one feels especially melancholy.


	3. Sequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By request: the sequel/follow up to this fic! I kept which of the two versions it came from vague, so it can apply to either :D
> 
> Thank you for your request!

“Hey, can we talk?”

Those four words can imply a lot. Jake couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten rejected, extra work, or just some crazy shit dumped on him with those four words as the only precursor.

He turned in his chair, looking up at Terry. He was holding a folder in his arms, looking tense.

“Okay.” Jake said simply, standing up. His face still hurt a little, from when Terry had punched him - twice - but the bruising had faded away. He just looked tired, now.

Which was accurate, but still.

Jake followed Terry outside to the roof patio. It was brisk, but - for what seemed like the first time in weeks - not cold. Although Jake knew that Amy would disagree.

Terry looked uneasy, and Jake did nothing to abate it. He wasn’t going to ask why they were standing out here - Terry wanted to talk to him, Terry would have to be the one to bring it up.

They looked at each other for nearly a solid minute, both waiting for… something. Jake crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the roof, expectant.

“Look, Jake,” Terry said finally, uncrossing his arms. He sounded like he had been rehearsing this to himself. “I wanted to talk about last week. The… op we had. With Boyle.”

“What about it?” Jake asked casually, swallowing back the nerves he felt immediately jump into his throat.

“I behaved in a manner unbefitting of my position. I allowed my emotions to…” Terry broke himself off, sighing deeply. “This isn’t what I want to say.” He muttered after a moment, rubbing at his forehead.

Jake furrowed his eyebrows.

“I want to apologize, and talk. For real. Not some… rehearsed garbage.” Terry sighed, pulling up a chair from the patio table and sitting down heavily into it, elbows on his knees.

Jake stayed standing. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know how.

Thankfully, Terry found his voice.

“Look, Jake, I… my dad was a piece of shit.”

Jake blinked, uncrossing his arms and straightening up, expression going soft. That was not the route he had expected this conversation to go.

“And I’m not trying to make excuses. But, look, I never wanted to be like him. And then… Jake, the _look_ on your face when I hit you? When you flinched from me? I saw… well, I saw that I was no better than him.”

“That’s not true.” Jake said immediately. “You’re a good person, Sarge. And I’m not afraid of you, or anything. I trust you.”

“Oh really?” Terry asked, “Look at where you’re standing, right now, Jake. Standing, positioned towards the door. Even now, you’re prepped to run from me.”

Jake glanced down at his feet. Huh. He hadn’t even realized that was happening, but… it was true. His toes were pointed towards the door, his position was defensive, he had the main escape routes already marked down.

Jake had been mentally getting ready to escape. From Terry.

“Sarge,” Jake grimaced, repositioning his body so that it was no longer defensive. “Don’t take it personally. I… my dad was… a piece of shit, too.” He looked away as he said it.

“That just makes it worse, kid.” Terry said roughly, “I hurt you, I made you lose your trust in me as a superior officer, as a fellow cop, as a _friend_.”

“It’s not that important.” Jake said awkwardly.

“Yes, it is.” Terry said, standing up. “Which is why I’m filing a report. I’m going to transfer out of the 99.”

“What?” Jake took a step forward before he was even aware he was doing it. “You can’t do that! We need you here!”

“Really, Jake? I terrorized one of-”

Jake laughed. It was a panicked, almost manic laugh, that cut through Terry’s words instantly.

“You think,” Jake choked out another laugh, “You think that you _traumatized_ me? Sarge, fuck, I mean…” Jake coughed into his hand, trying to regain his composure as Terry looked on, clearly confused and more than a bit worried. “I mean, Terry, honestly,” Jake’s voice was rife with amusement, “You didn’t hit me that hard. Fuck, I’ve gotten worse for spilling cereal on the floor.”

“Jake-”

“No, no, seriously. Listen.” The humor in Jake’s voice vanished in an instant. “I trust you. More than any other Sargeant I’ve ever had. You’re willingness to just… up and switch entire precincts, is proof that you’re good. I don’t want you to leave. And, as for being like your dad. It’s every kid’s worst fear, right? Ending up like their parents. But, Sarge, you _love_ your kids. I’ve never seen you so much as raise your voice at them or Sharon. You’d never hurt one of them. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You’re one of my kids, Jake.” Terry said firmly. “And I hurt you.”

“Well, it’s going to hurt me more if you up and leave.” Jake argued. “Besides, you can’t run from your problems any more than I can.”

Jake pushed on Terry’s shoulder lightly. It was like a rock.

“And besides, if you try to again, I can always take you down.”

“Yeah?” Terry asked, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Pepper spray.”

“Mm. Good choice.”

“Thanks.” Jake grinned toothily.

They existed in silence after that. Not uncomfortable per se, but there was so much hanging between them.

Jake never would have guessed that Terry had a dad like his. He just seemed so… together. He loved his wife and his kids _so_ much. It definitely gave Jake a greater understanding of why Terry had freaked out so hard when his twins were born. Jake couldn’t imagine trying to be a good dad when the prior experience was… decidedly not.

At least Jake’s dad had just abandoned him early on - he didn’t get too much abuse in before he ditched.

But hey, if Sarge could do it… it gave Jake something to hope for, himself.

Jake wanted to express those thoughts. How Terry’s quiet admission of his own father had been so absolutely impactful on Jake - far more impactful than his fist in Jake’s face had been - but instead, all he said was, “We should head inside.”

Terry nodded, and the pair went back into the precinct.

“By the way, you better tear up that transfer letter.” Jake said, “Or else I’ll tell Hitchcock and Scully where your full-fat yogurt stash is.”

He heard Terry gasp, affronted, behind him, and Jake let a grin creep out over his face - and bit back the hint of a tension in his shoulders at the same time.

Truly, everything felt fine.

He trusted Terry.

After all, Jake reasoned, he did actually have pepper spray.

Not that he’d ever need it. Terry had made that much evident.

Jake saw Gina and Amy looking at him from over their phone and computer, respectively, and felt his grin grow wider.

Jake trusted everyone on this team. Completely and absolutely.

No exceptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments! I adore them <3
> 
> if you have a request for a fic, feel free to request one on tumblr! comments on fics are harder to track for me :D
> 
> Oh also in s3ep19 Terry says that "my dad was a piece of shit" so I rolled with it. plenty of angst to go around ! :)


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